Feast of tears
by Lizella
Summary: The beginning of another year, but the losses, those children and colleagues that were taken, by him-who-shall-be-damned!


Authors note: So here returns the drama queen, who does not owe a single person down below, because they all (and I mean all, I looked up all these students names) belong to JKR. Which is probably better, because given to me, I would kill most of them off (yes, even my favourite character, who by the way is NOT Sybill Trelawney – dont know what rode me to write her pov)

She had no idea, why she had chosen to come down into the great hall tonight. Noone had forced her to. Asking her to join the teachers table was one of the few things Minerva would never bring herself to ask her. And certainly not tonight. Of all the days and nights that had been or still would come, not tonight. But here she was. Sitting on a chair that wasnt hers. It was almost as if Filius was still sitting on it. It did not take an inner eye to feel the presence of the small wizard. Sitting at a table that she used to detest. Sitting with fellow teachers into whose group she would never fit in. But was there still a resistance? Had their spirit remained, when so many had been lost? Sitting in a hall, once full of laughter and jokes, now full with silent tears. Sitting in a castle that had not kept any of its previous warmth or familiarity.

She knew some of the children would wonder why she was here tonight. Why a bony woman, with too big glasses and too much jewelry was sitting in between a sickly looking werewolf whose grey strands now dominated over his sandy hair and whose golden eyes had lost all happiness, and an unusually small and cowered head of Hufflepuff house. But most had worse problems than wondering why Sybill Trelawney had decided to join the mourners.

She let her eyes wander over the four house tables. It seemed her magic sight had been lost when facing the final battle. Hufflepuff, the badger, too many kids with puffy red eyes or open tears running down their cheeks. Deaths were often not taken well by those who valued team spirit and friendship. When dear ones were taken off a house more social and caring than the others.

Ravenclaw, the eagle, those who normally seemed so secluded, caring only for intelligence and wisdom. Children who suddenly seemed small and lost instead of bright and studious. Just children who had not only lost fellow classmates, but also their beloved head of house. Cho Chang, a remarkable seeker she had been told, sitting stiffly, tearstains in her eyes, staring at the lions table without blinking, no doubt thinking about the second boy she had loved and lost in her young life.

Gryffindor, the lion, those who had to be brave and strong, keeping their tears and sobs at bay. Chairs which had carefully been kept unused, with invisible name cards written on them. One twin, being lost and incomplete without his other half. A young read haired boy, whose freckles stood strangely out against his pale face, his eyes constantly wandering from the empty seat of his little sister, to that of his best friend and Hogwarts most celebrated hero. Clutching the hand of that Hermione Granger, whose name she would never forget after her spectacular walking out of the classroom, even less after her warning when a directly dodged "Avade Kedavra" had almost collided with her heart. The bushy haireds girls eyes had just taken sight of another abadoned seat, once belonged to an extraordinary clumsy yet loyal boy. Two friends, looking very much out of jokes, now that two of their roommates were gone.

Slytherin, the snake, her house, as not many people knew. They looked older than most of the others. Less like children, more like grown-ups, soon to be seniors. As noone would admit, their burdon was a larger one. They were just teenagers after all. Teenagers who had fought against their friends, their brothers or sisters, their fathers or mothers. Who would ever have thought a Gregory Goyle would have to kill a Vincent Crabbe in self-defence? Or a Draco Malfoy would finally stand up against his father, after having seen him kill the dark, brooding man who had probably saved more people than any Gryffindor ever would? Who would have thought the same blonde boy staring expressionless at the chair on his left, where the girl he had been dating for 5 years once had sitten? They did not cry. After all, Slytherins do not show weakness in public. But they glared daggers at the seat next to Minerva where a witch was sitting, nervously aware of the hate radiating off the house table, knowing it was not she who they were against, but the fact she was sitting on Severus Snapes seat.

At the middle of the table, our newly appointed headmistress stood up. Her scarlet robes still as firmly pressed as ever, her black hair not longer being able to conceil streakes of grey. She held herself as straight and tall as she could muster. Her face was worn, deep frown lines around her steeled eyes. She only had cracked once. When Albus fell. It had been the only time Minerva McGonagall had ever cried, I knew it would remain so.

"I would like to say that I welcome all of you to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." I hear her voice waver, we all did. "But before we go on pretending, there are people who have to be honored, wizard or witch, teacher or student Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or Slytherin, who have given their lives, who died protecting those they cared for." Her eyes glazed over to the Hufflepuff table "Ernie MacMillian. Hannah Abbott."

We watched her gaze swing over to the Ravenclaws. "Terry Boot. Padma Patil. Ackerly Stewart." I could hear a loud sob escaping the lips of one of my favourite students from the Gryffindor table and saw her best friend Lavender Brown trying to comfort the grieving twin sister.

Slytherin came next. Some of the boys eyed Minerva warily, as if awaiting she would say something harsh towards their house, after all she was the next Gryffindor headmaster. "Pansy Parkinson. Milicent Bulstrode. Vincent Crabbe. Malcolm Baddock. Blaise Zabini. Marcus Flint." Had anyone noticed that this house had lost more students than any other? Did anyone even care? The other tables shot them glances of anger and hatred and suspicion. Minerva seemed to notice. Very observive for a Gryffindor. "It should be stated that none of those losses were on the dark side. All of them gave their lives for our side in the fight against" I still saw her shudder "Voldemort". But I was taken aback. As were several other teachers. But none more than Slytherins children. It was a lie. An obvious blatant lie. Most of us knew on which side Crabbe,Bulstrode and Flint had died. And still the former head of Gryffindor, having all the ideals Godric had so admired combined in herself, stood at the middle of the teachers table and lied to us. And she did it to protect the only house many would have abadoned without a second thought. Whatever had remained of our animosity, now was gone. The Slytherins still gave her their full attention, but with a look of wonder and thankfulness now.

Finally her eyes reached the Gryffindors, her cubs. I saw her eyes shimmer. Instead of ever having children of her own she had adopted a whole house of them. "Neville Longbottom. George Weasley. Ginny Weasley. Harry Potter." The hall was as silent that one could have heard a needle fall. It was said. The hero had died. The child we had all put our hopes into (maybe not all reminded me the imagined sneer on Severus Snapes face) had proven to be just a human being instead of an invincible god. And human beings could be killed. As could our hopes.

During the seemingly endless silence, my head surveyed the staff table. On my right, the round puffy head, purposefully hidden under a pillow of grey locks, trying the conceil the weeping face of Susan Sprout.

To my left the worn and etched face of Remus Lupin, which had nothing to do with the full moon five days ago. The red gashes across his face were even more obvious than usual. His left arm was firmly pressed against his frail body, hiding the remains of what had once been a fully intact hand before a once schooltime-friend had decided to give him a silver handshake. Even to a werewolf there were worse boggarts than a full moon, one of them being forced to watch every friend you ever had being killed off after betrayal by another friend.

While many of us looked decades older, Nymphadora Tonks somehow managed to look even younger than her few years of adulthood. She fidgeted and tried to meet the eyes of her new students, aware how unexperienced she was in teaching potions, how she still looked like a lost little child even with her spiky hair cole black, fitting her robes. She softly tried to console Remus by patting his shoulder.

Then Violet Vektor, regarding the new potions mistress. We all knew how much she and Severus had disliked each other. If he could have seen her now, he surely would have believed her to be under the "Imperio". It was written clear on her face how sorry she was for the debate they had had only hours before he fell, how she wanted to see his "ugly, cruel and sadistic", as she had often stated, face again. We never realize the worth of a person until they are gone.

Our new headmistress, still standing, not daring to touch the seat that had been his. She had been proud of her position as deputy, and she would have followed Albus to hell and back. She had in fact. But now he had gone to a place where she could not join him, leaving her alone and with a task she thought herself not capable of fulfilling. But anyone who had met her knew, she would try. How the lioness would fight, now that the sparkling blue eyes had forever closed.

Serena Sinistra and Amanda Hooch, their eyes watering, clutching each others hands under the table. Clinging desperately onto another living being, needing human contact to know they were still alive. That they had to be.

Theodora Raue-Pritsche looking at the table, being regarded by Gryffindors, those who were of the opinion that a certain kind, talkative half-giant, with an unhealthy addiction to dangerous magical creatures should be sitting there instead, proudly regarding them out of beady black eyes shining with inner laughter. A happiness that would never be again.

Several chairs were empty, replacements had not been found yet and Charms would be also taken over by Remus, next to Defence against the Dark Arts. Minerva had insisted on continuing to teach Transfiguration until a volunteer came to be.

"Many of our staff have given their lives in order to protect their children, and they have fought braver than anyone could ever acknowledge." She paused. A deep breath-taking. "Filius Flitwick. Rubeus Hagrid. Severus Snape." A sigh. "Albus Dumbledore".

She fought to detach herself. Not to feel. She had always been rather good at it. I could see what she saw. Trying to push the images of the small levitating Filius delightfully decorating the great hall with the most beautiful snowflakes and candles; the happy and slightly drunk Hagrid giving her a peck on the cheek; Severus smugly explaining to her how she would have to hand the Quidditch and House Cups over to Slytherin if her foolish Gryffindors kept on loosing points like this. And Albus, leading and guiding us, his bright blue eyes shining us the way and his smile lightning up the darkness of despair.

"Professor Lupin has agreed to take up the Defence against the Dark Arts post once again and also, for the meantime, the Charms class." It was clear that no parents would object any longer. None of the kids would fear being closed to a werewolf. One might wonder how much exactly it took for people to accept someone who is different.

"Professor Raue-Pritsche will once more be teaching Care for Magical Creatures and also fulfill the task of the groundskeeper." Of course the girls who had so endeared her after the unicorns, were glad she was back. Only none of them could hide their sorrow over missing the blast ended screwts and hippogreifs.

"Auror Tonks will take over Potions." I could see the young woman blush and intensely stare at her feet. She had been one of the few students Severus had actually respected and I almost had to congratulate Minerva for offering her the position. Even if Tonks had actually volunteered herself, stating that she owed the grouchy potions master something.

"Heads of house are always expecially hard to loose." I saw many of the kids nod, again noticing how a single summer had made them grow up. "But I still expect you to treat your newly appointeds with respect and fairness. Madame Hooch will be the new head of Ravenclaw." The teenagers from the table nodded in confirmation and understanding. Probably they were just glad that it wasnt me who was their new head of house, as with me sitting on Filius chair. After all how could they have known which house I had been in.

Minerva looked at me. No, it couldnt be. But her eyes had told me. She would really do it, seemingly she had forgotten how much she detested me and my predictions. "Professor Trelawney will be the new head of Slytherin" Now every pupils eyes were on me. I definitely needed to get back to my tower. Not Severus dungeons for me.

Thankfully Minerva noticed. "I will continue being the head of Gryffindor next to being headmistress until a new Transfigurations professor can be found." Three tables full of dissaproving looks. "You should know that my duties as a headmistress" she still managed to choke at the word "will have priority and I do not intend on favoring any house." We who knew her, believed her. Unlike Severus, Minerva had never treated her cubs better than others. But then, Gryffindors were the heroes, whereas Slytherins only had other Slytherins as their friends. I wondered if I ever could actually lead a house and live up to Severus reputation. I knew I never could. I did not want to.

Minerva had scruntched up her face. I know she was trying so hard to find something Albus-like to say. Knowing that her stern, yet gentle demeanor could never replace the funny, kind bumblebee we had lost. "You should be proud of yourselves" she finally got out, surveying the hall "you will never forget what you have seen, but the deeds you have done will change a bit of our world for the better. And we will do" she glanced over the staff table now "everything that stands in our power to protect this school and those who inhabit it." A tear was nearly spilling out of the corner of her right eye when stood even straighter and rose her goblin. She was followed suit, first by the staff table, then by every single student in the great hall.

"To Hogwarts and all those who gave their lives defending it".


End file.
